6

Kane

Orionis' Star. It was just a remote and unknown planet for eons. Thirty years ago, they discovered there was an asteroid orbiting it. Not just any asteroid though. One rich in Rosy Star.

A simple red flower shaped like a star. To an outsider, I'm sure it looks at best cute and at worst useless.

It is anything but. Its flowers are the main ingredient of the most prestigious, successful, lucrative drugs in the interstellar. The roots are anti-aging—easily packed into cremes, serums, and masks, sold to only the wealthiest women for egregious amounts.

Of course, anything so powerful is rarely easily obtained. The soil is difficult to tend to, growing in conditions that are hard to replicate, keeping costs high.

Most people didn't even know it existed, it was so rare and hard to get.

I sigh and glance out at the landscape. A field of rosy flowers grows under my watchful eye.

Now there's an abundance. My pack discovered Orionis, we owned this planet, but the old alpha—my father—his health suffered after being injured on the battlefield. He was never the same after that. Not physically. Not mentally. Not all.

I was all that was left, the only successor. Young. Afraid. Alone. Burdened with the responsibilities men three times my age could not carry.

Thirty years ago, I couldn't control this area at all. So then my father gave up. On me. On Orinis. On ruling it at all. He let several companies mine its ores, and since they paid him a chunk of the sales he didn't mind it again.

When I came of age I thought my father would help me find my way but instead, he sent me to the army.

"It'll build character. Make you a man. Make you an Alpha."

I'm not sure it's true.

Nevertheless, with no one overseeing Orinis, it was inevitable factions would arise. It was so rich in resources, and developed so quickly in so little time, that groups began springing up, trying to claim their share of the profits.

At first, it was normal politics. But it wasn't but a matter of time until a war broke out. And break out it did. A full rebel army arose under my father's nose but was reported.

The next few were not so simple.

There were many conflicts on our pack planet— I was at the forefront of them all. Under the charge of my father, desperate to prove something. Or end it maybe.

Finally, after I was no longer pure. After I was soaked in blood my father saw me. And he smiled. I was his son.

I don't know if I should be proud of that.

He put me in charge of Orinis and sent Clark with me to help me regulate my pheromones. At first I'd just take suppressants to regulate, every day.

But then, some interstellar beasts have pheromone confusion, a survival tactic leaving their victims defenseless.  So I'd have to give myself another injection, before I killed it.

Even in the pheromone confrontation training, you need to take an injection of inhibitor at first.

After a few years of that, my doctor sat me down.

"You can't fight anymore."

I remember the words echoing in my ears. "You'll cause permanent damage at this rate. But don't worry, there's an easy cure: find an omega with a high enough matching level, and after some time of constant contact, you can reverse the damage you've done to your pheromone system."

It's easier said than done, as it turns out. Finding an omega with a high enough pheromone level.

Clark scanned for a matching wave on our pack planet, but none of them exceeded 70 percent, far off the 85% mark.

After arriving at Orionis star, after the rebels were suppressed, Clark started looking again.

I hadn't even told him to. It was just an idle scan, we never expected anything from it. But there she was. A 98% match%.

From a search that normally, we wouldn't have made. I had to have her. I need her.

Clark told me when he offered this to her, when she'd accepted, she'd looked like she'd had no choice.

She was right. From the beginning, she had no choice at all.